


Coming Home

by fictionisthebetterreality



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A whole lot of dogs, Dogs, Living Together, M/M, anyway, but bo is so behind it, domestic AU, even tho we have 4 already, greetings, i saw this thing on tumblr and got inspired, literally barely counts as a fic more of a drabble, married, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 08:17:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10081127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionisthebetterreality/pseuds/fictionisthebetterreality
Summary: Coming home is definitely An Event for Akaashi, but he wouldn't have it any other way.Or Bokuaka + Dogs bc what more do you need





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey ! So I saw this 
> 
> http://orangiah.tumblr.com/image/157965100829 
> 
> and wrote something for it in probably less than an hour with minimal editing, so sorry in advance for any mistakes!

Coming home, for Akaashi, is An Event. Most people, he knows, simply arrive at their front door, take out their key, unlock the door, step inside, and that’s it – they’re in.

Not him.

He lets out a sigh as he lays his shopping bags on the step, flexing his hands to get some of the circulation back. Taking out his key, he looks at it. Looks at the door, then at his bags. After a minute, he realises that the bags are going to be sacrificed, because there’s no way he can get through the front door with them and survive.  
The key goes in the lock, and even before he turns it he can hear the first noise, the beginning of the end.

WOOF

Lips twitching, the lock clicks back and he opens the door. He can hear more noise now, a cacophony of events that his trained ear can separate out into individual disasters. 

Scrape-scratch-scrape – claws hitting the floor as they run for the door. 

There are high yips and deeper barks, their insistence to alert all in the immediate vicinity there’s Something Happening. 

Finally, the heavy thud thud thud that follows, after a second of delay.

Akaashi steps inside, looking expectantly at the hallway that branches off to the sitting room, and like clockwork, they arrive.  
Five dogs, ranging from Tessa the bernese to Jack the terrier, round the corner at full speed. As always, Tessa is slow to brake and slams into the wall with a thud, her claws scrabbling uselessly at the floor, while Sam uses her as some sort of doggy spring board and leaps forward with steely determination. 

Finally, there’s - 

“AAAaaaaaKAAAssshhhhIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!”

His husband rounds the corner last, several howls answering his call, and Akaashi has two seconds to brace before they hit him.

Unsurprisingly, he goes down. Someone yelps as their tail gets caught, there’s an offended yip when he nearly sits on someone else, he gets a mouthful of dog fur, there’s a tongue in his ear, and then Bokuto sprawls his full weight on top. 

“Akaashi!!”  
WOOF  
“we missed-“  
WOOF WOOF  
“you!!!” 

Seven years of the same routine, and Akaashi still can’t stop the smile that takes over his entire face, the laugh that escapes as his family surrounds him. 

Bokuto stands and effortlessly pulls Akaashi up into a crushing hug, lifting his feet off the floor with the force of it. He spots the bags on the front step, now subject to several curious noses, and picks them up, leading the way to the kitchen, chattering all the while.

Other people might not have what Akaashi has, they might have quiet homes and uneventful homecomings, they might be able to open the front door without having to do a risk assessment for every thing they have with them, they might even be able to walk to the kitchen without having to stop and say “Who’s a good dog?” at least ten times, but –  
If Akaashi had wanted ‘normal’, wanted ‘safe’ and uneventful and boring, then he would have married someone who matched that - someone who wasn’t Bokuto Koutaro, ace and #1 spiker of the Japan National team - ranked third in the world. But he did, and there is not a single second of it that he regrets. 

Coming home might be an event, but it’s an event he looks forward to, every single day.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/Comments are verryyy much appreciated!


End file.
